Avalon's People
by WhiteFires
Summary: That was it then, he was dead. He had died in Merlin's arms. This was the afterlife.
1. Chapter 1

_I came up with the idea for this about four days after the finale. I started writing it back then, but forgot about it until now. I've just been editing it for the past couple of days seeing as most of it was already written. I'm pleased to say that my writing skills have improved in the past seven months despite not having written much. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! And there will be **SPOILERS FOR 5x13** ahead._

* * *

For a few moments, all Arthur could see was a soft whiteness. It started to fade away gradually, until he had a much wider range of vision. He was standing on the surface of a lake, yet it felt as solid to him as land did. When he moved his feet around a little, he created ripples in the water. He stared at his feet in wonderment; marvelling at the impossibility of it all.

That was it then, he was dead. He had died in Merlin's arms. This was the afterlife.

He could remember everything that had happened; he remembered being struck down by Mordred, he remembered the pain he had felt from his wound and the pain from discovering Merlin had magic. He remembered being held by his friend as he died, and he remembered patting Merlin's hand to comfort him.

He hadn't been afraid, the fact that he was going to die was undeniable; the only regret he had was that he was going to die alone in the presence of a traitor, but even that had vanished once he realised that Merlin had only ever used his magic for him, Arthur.

In the end, he had been comforting Merlin. He, the one who was dying, was comforting his friend. He was more afraid of what was waiting for his king than the king was himself; that had been the final proof that Merlin was his friend and not a traitor.

And then the end had come. It was more peaceful than he had expected, like slipping into oblivion, Merlin's words still echoing indistinctly above him.

The afterlife wasn't exactly what he had anticipated either. Standing on the surface of a lake wasn't quite how he had imagined he would spend eternity.

The lake in question was familiar. He had only had a glimpse of it in life, yet he knew exactly where he was: the lake of Avalon, where Merlin had been taking him. There was the island in the middle, with the distinctive tower atop the small hill, grass covering its banks.

He turned around to look in the direction he and Merlin must have been in. Was Merlin still there? Was_ he_ still there? His body? He searched the bank for signs of life, but he could see nothing. Of course not. If he was dead then Merlin would have given up, wouldn't he?

No. Merlin would never give up, even if he thought he was dead. That was just how he was. Loyal to a fault. Did that mean he would still try to get Arthur to the lake? Would he be able to see him or was he completely separated from the living?

A noise behind him – a ripple of water – made him turn around. Nine women were standing there, arranged in a crescent around him. They all wore hooded black cloaks, each one so long it floated in the water around them, pulsating in the swell. Arthur stared at them, startled by their sudden appearance. He looked at each of their faces in turn until he came to the one on the far right. His sister stared at him with a cool detachment. Morgana made no movement to indicate that she knew him, yet he could tell from her eyes that she still held him in the most utter contempt.

He instantly became more aware of each of the women before him. Perhaps they meant him harm. He unconsciously reached for his sword, but before he could realise that it was not there, or even what he was doing, one of them – the one in the middle – stepped forwards.

"Peace, Arthur," she said, holding up a hand. "We mean you no harm."

She stepped closer to him, so they were just a few feet apart, and drew back her hood. She had long dark brown hair and dark eyes to match, a soft and peaceful expression in place, undoubtedly to make him feel more relaxed. She seemed familiar for a second, but then the second was gone and he was once again positive that he had never seen her before. She smiled and said, "We are here to take you to Avalon."

He studied her face intently, yet she seemed genuine and honest to his eyes.

"So I really am dead then," he stated, an odd, dull feeling passing through him.

"No, only sleeping," she replied. "There will come a time again when Albion needs you, and then you will return to the world."

He furrowed his brow and adopted a look of dubiety.

"How?" he asked.

"You are the Once and Future King," she replied. "It is your destiny."

"That was why, not how," he stated.

She just continued to smile at him and turned away. The other eight women did so as well.

"Come with us," she said to him over her shoulder.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The lady turned back to him and said, "I am the Lady of the Lake, and we are all queens of our own domains. Each of us made our way to Avalon at some point or other, whether in this century or many eons ago. We are here to guide you to your resting place."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" he asked, giving a pointed look at Morgana.

"No one can harm you here Arthur, and no one wants to."

She turned away from him again and she and the other queens began to walk towards the lake. Arthur still hesitated, and turned away from them to look back at the lake's shore. Something caught his eye just above the tree line. A large, dark shape was flying towards the lake.

"Wait," he said to the women. "What's that?"

He pointed at the dark shape, but something told him that any guess of his wouldn't be far off the mark. A dragon was flying towards them, and as it passed the tree line, he could see two figures perched atop it. Although it was impossible to tell from this distance, he would wager that one of the figures had messy, raven hair and a thing for scarfs. So Merlin could control dragons now. Compared with everything else he had learned in the past few days, it didn't surprise him, although the idea of Merlin controlling a dragon was a funny one indeed.

The giant creature landed on the shore and Arthur recognised it as he one he had supposedly killed years ago. It seemed his friend had been keeping more secrets than he could ever have guessed.

"It's inconsequential," the Lady of the Lake said, although she was regarding the shore with what looked like longing herself.

"But that's Merlin," he said, taking a few steps towards his friend. "Can't – can't I –"

"It is only very rarely that we are allowed to communicate with the living. We are allowed to watch only. I'm sorry Arthur, you can't speak to him," the Lady said, her eyes filled with genuine sadness for him. "We must go."

This time, instead of turning away from him, the women waited, almost like they were seeking his permission. He looked back at Merlin and the dragon. He couldn't go. He couldn't leave him there.

If he listened carefully, he could just about hear the dragon talking. That was a first: talking dragons. The noises were muffled though, almost like there was water clogging his ears so he couldn't hear the sounds properly. There were pauses in its speech where he supposed Merlin was answering it, although he couldn't hear him at all. After a few moments, noise broke through the barrier, and Arthur heard an anguished yell, then a voice crying, "I CAN'T LOSE HIM!"

It was Merlin; he was still trying to save him! Even though his spirit had already left his body, he was still trying to bring his friend back.

Arthur didn't hesitate, he started to walk swiftly back towards his friend.

"Arthur," the Lady called. "Arthur!"

He didn't listen to her, he only focused on Merlin. The voices had become muffled again and he could barely hear them this time. He didn't allow himself to worry about what this might mean.

"There is nothing you can do!" the Lady said. "Arthur, stop. You can't go back to him, it's impossible."

He continued to ignore her and began to walk faster, almost breaking out into a run.

"Arthur! You will see him again one day, but this is not that time!"

He stopped. He could still see Merlin on the shore, clutching Arthur's body close to him. He watched the dragon take off and fly away, and then he saw Merlin lay his body on the ground.

"Come back. I promise you will meet him again."

The king kept looking at his friend, the knowledge of what he had to do weighing heavily in his mind.

Just one more look. One more minute.

Please.

"Goodbye, Merlin."

Eyes glistening slightly, he turned around slowly.

The women had all linked hands and were once again standing in the crescent around him, just a few feet away, despite the fact that he had just walked away from them. The Lady gave him a brief, but sad smile, and then they all sank beneath the water.

Beneath the surface was a completely different world. Shades of blue and green pervaded his eyes, constantly changing due to the shifting of the water. The first rays of the day's sunlight were filtering through the lake, dimming and brightening with its movement and sliding across the women's faces leisurely. The lake seemed bottomless, a dark and unending expanse of water beneath them and there was nothing to be seen except for him and the women, all ten of them floated demurely a few inches beneath the lakes expanse, completely cut off from the living. Here no breath was needed, no sustenance or drink; nothing the living depended on was coveted in the ethereal waters. He found it beautiful. Yet eerie too.

"Reach up," said the Lady, her voice reaching his ears as easily as it would have travelling through air, no bubbles escaping from her mouth as they should have done.

He looked at her.

"What?"

"Reach up," she repeated.

"Why?"

She continued to gaze at him with warm eyes, betraying nothing.

"Reach up," she said once more.

Slowly, and feeling rather foolish, Arthur stuck his arm into the water above him. His arm penetrated the water, and he felt a cool breeze he had not been able to feel when standing on the surface of the lake.

He looked back at the nine women and waited for further instructions, but they said nothing. Starting to feel like he was being made a fool of, he was about to retract his arm when something heavy collided with his palm. His fingers compulsorily closed around the object and his head snapped upwards in surprise. Slowly, he brought his arm beneath the water again and a gleaming sword followed; the very same sword he had pulled out of the stone. He gaped at it, his confusion to how it came to be in his hand evident on his face. After a moment of looking at the weapon in bewilderment, he accepted the strange event and turned his attention back to the women surrounding him.

"What now?" he asked, but as soon as he did so, they began to slowly sink further into the lake once more.

"You will stay with us in Avalon until it is time for you to return to the world," she said.

"Why am I supposed to return?" he asked.

"There will come a time again when Albion will need you and when that day comes, Merlin will be waiting for you."

"How long will it be until then?"

He found a tone of desperation edging into his voice.

It couldn't be all that long, surely. It couldn't. He had to go back.

"We don't know, but when the time comes you will," was the reply.

They were several yards under the surface now, the water around them growing darker with every inch they sank, and still no sign that the lake wasn't endless.

"Merlin _will_ be waiting for you though. He won't ever leave your side, even when the Gates of Avalon separate you."

"I know," he replied.

A small light came into existence before him, growing larger and brighter with each passing second. Everything the light touched altered itself to mirror the whiteness that was emanating from it. It wasn't blinding, only soft, almost gentle. Soon the light had covered everything in his vision, staying for a single moment before fading away. It was then that Arthur knew he had reached Avalon.

* * *

_I guess I'll continue this if people want me to (I already have some ideas about what Arthur will find in Avalon), but if I do there won't be an update for a while seeing as I'm going to Scotland tomorrow. It's unlikely that I'll take my laptop as I won't have much time to write, I'll be far too busy watching people run up hills and toss cabers!_

_I guess I only have one more thing to say and that's TAKE ME TO GLASGOW!_


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm sorry guys! I meant to get this up earlier, but there wasn't wifi where I was staying in Scotland. (I missed Doctor Who live! I didn't know who the new doctor was for ages! And then we went to stay with a cousin for one night and one of the first things I said to her was "have you got wifi?") Anyway, because I forgot to explain in the last chapter: for those who don't know, Arthur was supposedly escorted to Avalon by nine queens, or at least the stuff I've been reading says so. One of them was Morgana, but I've no idea who the others are or even if legend knows, so I'm improvising. You'll meet one of them in this chapter, but I might not introduce all of them, it all depends on what you guys want me to do. Some of you have expressed interest in them and I've already created a couple of characters, but I don't want to drag the attention away from Arthur's interactions with the canon characters and what's happening back in the land of the living._

* * *

Avalon was beautiful.

Enough said. Nothing could ever come close to comparing.

He opened his mouth as if to say something – as though he should say something – but found that words were failing him. Because words would always fail in such a place as this.

Arthur was almost sure that they weren't underwater anymore, so little resistance any of his movements caused against him, but the light suggested all otherwise; the hues of green and blue dancing in the air(?) around him, shimmering as though they still were deep in the lake. And perhaps they still were. If he craned his neck to look up, there was no sky, only more blue and green reaching far further than his eyes could.

They were standing rather than floating now, rock beneath their feet. On all sides of them were large structures that rose high into the absent sky, he supposed that they were buildings. He hadn't expected the afterlife to be so full of them; he had imagined perhaps something a little … emptier. Also drier. That was to say, he felt perfectly dry – not even the slightest bit damp – but they did still seem to be at the bottom of a very deep lake; not exactly where he had pictured spending eternity.

He hadn't expected there would be so many people either. Granted this was the afterlife and goodness knew how many people had ever died, but like he had said, he pictured it with a little less.

The Lady of the Lake and the eight other women led him through the twisted architecture silently, allowing him little time to marvel at his surroundings. As they walked, the people started appearing; dozens and dozens of them. They poured out of doorways and hung out of windows which glowed with a pale light; all straining to see who the nine queens were bringing to Avalon. They stared at the visitor as though they could tell he was just that. Maybe they could. He figured that the Lady of the Lake (who he assumed was in charge) and her entourage didn't personally escort everyone to the afterlife.

The most common expression that was worn on the dead around him was curiosity, mainly directed at him. He looked back with similar interest, studying each individual briefly as they passed.

They didn't have to walk for long before the buildings stopped climbing out of the rock and the ground beneath them began to slope upwards. The still silent queens led him up the slope for a couple of minutes before the non-existent sky became existent, although it looked more like a ceiling than an actual sky. A strangely colourful ceiling, which shifted and rippled. Almost like the surface of a lake.

As they came closer to the surface, the water around them started to act a little more like water and Arthur's movements finally started to cause some resistance against him. When his head broke the surface, he had to strain against the water properly, creating small bow waves as he left the lake. When he reached the shore, there was not a single drop of water on him.

"Where are we going?" he finally asked.

It didn't seem as though he was going to be located with the rest of the dead, so it seemed as though he was being given special treatment, especially as they were currently on the island in the middle of the lake.

"To your resting place," the Lady of the Lake replied.

"Sounds a little morbid," he muttered.

One of the women smirked at his words.

They led him a short way around the island, staying close to the shore, until they reached what appeared to be a kind of cove. There was a small cliff and a beach filled with pebbles. There was a large hole in the face of the cliff, opening into a cave.

When all nine of the women stopped and stared at it, Arthur was a little put-out. A cave? He was supposed to spend the next goodness-knew-how-long in a _cave_?

"This is your home while you stay here," the Lady announced.

"I was expecting something a little … more," he said in reply.

He wasn't ungrateful or anything, but he was a king and he was used to _standards_.

"You don't want it?" she said, the hint of a smile on her lips.

"I do, it's fine. Thank you," he said, unwilling to come across as rude.

"You are welcome," she replied, the smile appearing in full.

He took a few steps past the queens to get closer to the cave.

He turned back to them, saying, "So how long –"

Them had turned into her. Eight of the women had disappeared, leaving only one left.

That … was rather spooky.

The remaining woman lowered her hood and used a hand to free her raven hair from the cloak, letting it spill down her back. She smiled at him; a familiar smile, although he had never met her before.

She gestured to the cave and he took the first few steps inside.

For a few seconds, he couldn't see anything in the recesses of the cave, but then the woman drew her palm across the air in front of her and about a dozen candles flickered into life, chasing away the shadows.

Before them was a tunnel, just wide enough to fit three people shoulder to shoulder comfortably. The candles were standing on small ledges carved into the stone, lighting the way down the tunnel. The woman led the way, walking leisurely, not too fast; a comfortable pace.

Just when they couldn't see any light from outside anymore, the tunnel opened into a cave. His new home apparently.

The cave was … a bit too cave-like to be honest. But then again, that was to be expected. There was nothing wrong with caves; they just weren't great to live in. It was furnished at least; a bed in the corner, large enough for one person with a little room to spare; a cupboard, fashioned like those he had in Camelot; a half-full bookcase and a fireplace carved into the back wall, although there didn't seem to be any form of chimney above it. About five foot in diameter, a table stood towards the back of the cave – round of course – and before it, nearer the entrance to the cave, was a pool of water. It was this last feature that caught Arthur's eye; clearly it was only an inch or two deep, which meant it was practically useless. The rim of the pool was outlined with intricate runes of some kind, ones that he couldn't read.

"How long is it I'm meant to stay here?" he asked the woman.

"Until the world needs you again," she replied, walking around the room and waving her palm past more candles, lighting them effortlessly.

"And when will that be?"

"We don't know. There's only one who does."

"Right. So can I speak to this person?"

A bubble of laughter escaped her lips.

"No."

"Actually, I'd really like to know –"

"A long time. A _very_ long time," she paused. "Sorry about that."

"I suppose it's not your fault."

"I suppose not. How are you?" she asked.

It struck him as an odd thing to ask someone who had recently died.

"Can't complain really. At least I get to go back," he said, attempting to make light of the situation.

Apparently she was in no mood to make small talk because she finished lighting all the candles and inquired, "Is there anything else you wish to ask?"

That could cover a lot of subjects, but he supposed she wanted him to ask her about something she could actually answer. Better start with the basics.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Nellwyn," she answered. "I am one of the Nine Queens of Avalon."

"The Nine Queens?"

She spoke as if it should be capitalised.

"We help look after those in Avalon, although Freya – the Lady of the Lake, that is – has many more duties than the rest of us," she explained.

She moved further into the cave and lifted a hand to one of the candles resting on a small ledge in the rock. She put her fingertip to the flame and held it there until the fire caught. She brought her hand away, a tiny flame dancing above her finger.

"Some of us have been here centuries, some just a few years and – in the case of your sister – a few hours."

Nellwyn cupped the flame in both hands and it grew steadily. As she brought it closer to her face, it shone on her neck and something caught his eye. Noticing his gaze, she pulled down the neck of her cloak for him to see an ugly, red scar that ran all the way around her throat.

"I was beheaded," she explained. "That's how I died."

"You're dead," he repeated.

Was he the only one that wasn't? Well … sort of.

She nodded in affirmation.

"We all are."

It seemed he was then.

"The Queens of Avalon are made to wear the scars of the wounds we died of to show our bravery in battle. Most of us died in conflict. I didn't," she grimaced. "I was killed for treason."

The flame withered and extinguished itself.

"Why were you killed?"

"I kind of unleashed a dragon on Mercia."

"…Oh."

He was starting to think that she was a little more like Morgana than he would have thought.

"I didn't seriously injure anyone," she said in indignation once she saw his expression. "And it was for a good cause anyway."

Finding it difficult to come up with a good reason for unleashing a dragon on a kingdom, he moved onto his next question.

"Why did you become a queen?"

"We are usually chosen for some great deed we did during our lifetimes, and yes, that dragon was my way into Avalon. This isn't always the case though. Freya was chosen to be the Lady of the Lake purely because of who she was as a person."

She walked around him so she was next to the tunnel leading out.

"You have everything you need here. We would prefer it if you stayed in the cave until someone comes to find you in a while. There's someone who wants to meet you. Well … a few people," she smiled at him with what looked like reverence. "It was nice to meet you, Arthur."

And then she was gone.

The Queens certainly seemed to like mysterious exits.

* * *

_I didn't go into too much detail when describing Avalon mainly because I wanted to leave people to imagine it for themselves. I guess we all have ideas of what something like that would be like and I didn't want to limit anyone's visual concept of it._

_In the next chapter Arthur gets a visit from an old friend ... ooh who's it going to be? Guesses? If anyone wants to see anything in particular (interactions between certain characters, etc), leave it in a review or PM and I'll see if I can work it in to the story._


End file.
